I got in late from work, so I missed the first bit of the last episode of this series. I managed to catch up on things on the BBC iPlayer, and I was pleased to be given the opportunity because I haven't seen anything as interesting or as enlightening as Extreme Pilgrim for many years. I'm not sure why it has moved me so much – I am in a reflective sort of mood these days, so quests for inner peace and spirituality is something that interests me at the moment I suppose – but for people who aren't into spirituality, I would hope it would've still been interesting and worth a watch. Part travelogue, part quest, part everything, Extreme Pilgrim has just been an extraordinary journey for the viewer and its host, Anglican priest Peter Owen Jones.

We've seen him push himself to the limits while experiencing extreme versions of Buddhism and Hinduism. Those programmes – from China and India respectively – were terrific, but this week Peter was off to Egypt to follow in the footsteps of the one of the religion's most ascetic characters (St Anthony). It was the trip that almost broke him mentally and affected him personally. And yes, again it was just great.

At the top of the show, Peter explained that he was off to Egypt to follow in the footsteps of early Christians and one in particular – St Anthony of the desert. These old-school members of the hardcore shut themselves away in the sandy wastelands to deny themselves all temptations. There was something about this trip that fascinated him – he explained that he often felt more like a civil servant than a servant to God, such was the beaurocracy of the Anglican church. He wanted to strip himself bare, get back to basics and find the essence of spirituality. It's just he wasn't looking forward too much to the journey getting there.

Peter was not looking forward to the trip, that much was obvious. It was a massive step out of his comfort zone. He knew what St Anthony was all about, and the prospect of experiencing such a minimal existence frightened him. To follow in his footsteps, he would have to spend time on his own for three weeks in a cave.

But there he was in Cairo – city of a thousand mosques – for a mission he had been waiting/avoiding for 40 years. St Anthony, after the death of some loved ones and a vision from God, decided to go out into the desert, cross the Nile, strip himself of all possessions and wage a one-man war against the devil and temptation. In Cairo, Peter went to St Anthony's cave, where the saint originally started his solitary confinement. As he lay in the shrine (now part of a church), Peter just couldn't figure out why someone would put themselves through so much pain and torture.
Why would anyone do this? Why is this the road to God? Why is putting yourself through this pain and torture the way to do it? Why wasn't eating tomato and basil soup and having a nice day as valid a way to find God?

To follow in his footsteps, Peter joined up with some Bedouin on the first leg of his journey. After they had left Cairo, Peter was freaked out by the over-powering silence of the desert. As they travelled, the caravan ate bread and water and he took the opportunity to chat to the Bedouin (after destroying his hips by riding camel during the day) around the fire at night. He asked them what they would have if they could have anything in the world. They all answered cars, except Abu, the top elder, who said shelter and good health from God. This was a telling answer I thought, from a wise but cheerful old chap.

As they got closer to their destination Abu warned him that time in the desert takes a man down the road of depression and sadness, and this was the first hint of what was in store for Peter when he reached the monastery.

During his last night with the Bedouins, Peter was emotional. Peter explained that the best day of his life was when he got married, and the worst was when he got separated. In a voiceover, he said that as a 49-year-old single man, his seperation made him live apart from his children. It hurt him, he said. During the quiet desert night he contemplated his life – maybe this solitary mission way was the way forward, and life was all about making the right choices.

He said goodbye to the Bedouin – Abu was so cool! – and he finally reached the monastery of St Anthony. It was like a little oasis in the middle of nowhere. It had a spring, so they grew roses and vegetables there. He observed the monks' prayer – which is so old-school that certain methods of prayer were similar to modern-day Islam, but was practised before Islam was even created. The service was a mystical affair, and Peter was intrigued and beguiled by this brand of Christianity. Despite all this he was really there to meet the mysterious Father Lazarus, who lives alone in the caves 1,000ft up in the mountains.

Lazarus (I so wanted to call him Pappa Lazarus, so I will here... not to mock him, but as an affectionate nickname), although a hermit, was an interesting and funny guy, and not the utter madman I was expecting. Big white beard, cheeky sense of humour and he got straight down to it – he was right into Peter about sin and penitence. Pappa Laz thought that he was there in the world to pray, to pray and pray again. He said that even though all looks peaceful up in the mountains and in his little cave, it was not a peaceful place – the place was like a constant raging fire, like a war, like a battleground. Satan was everywhere, and every day is a struggle.

Peter was told that the devil often tempted Anthony from his path, and that he saw gold and silver studded into the desert floor to try and sidetrack him. And this was what he was confronted with – these Coptic Christians (Pappa Laz in particular) believed that it was it was a war with Beelzebub every single day, and they are at the vanguard of the war against evil on behalf of the human race. They’re Jedi, they’re Samurai, they’re warriors, all using around-the-clock prayer instead of lightsabers or swords.

All this talk of the devil and demons – and of course the prospect of spending three weeks alone in a cave to pray and contemplate – freaked Peter out. Thankfully, there were moments of humour from Pappa. He explained that most monks are given the name Abdu Messiah (slave of the Messiah), but because of his love of coffee he was given the name Abdu Nescafé. In the midst of all this doom and gloom, this was the funniest thing I think I had ever heard.

Then it was back to business. Peter mused whether there were demons that were constructed in our own heads, or were they really there. Pappa told him, "You will pray, because you will be terrified not to pray." Yikes!

Peter was bricking it. He was left alone in his own little cave. The cameraman left him, and he was just left with a camcorder to record his thoughts. He was to be in that cave for three weeks.

We then switched to dramatic sequences of camcorder action. Peter started to go slightly mad – he was definitely scared and was mired in reflection and musings on guilt. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t think straight. Every little sound was magnified and amplified to eardrum-shattering levels. He heard wild dogs in the night that weren't actually there. He was physically ill, and it was obvious this being-on-your-own-in-a-cave lark was turning out to be every bit as terrifying as he thought it would.

In cut-always, Pappa explained that the first few days are a hell of reflection, and Peter will experience physical sickness and extreme hardness. But he also said that if Peter could stick it out for two weeks, and keep praying non-stop, he would start to banish the demons in his head.

And what do you know, wily old Pappa Laz was right. From shouting at rocks, expunging his own guilt and letting go of everything he knew, Peter turned the corner after two weeks. He started to embrace the silence, and he started to love it.

But then it was all over – Peter's three weeks in the cave was up. Pappa went to greet him and Peter, looking dishevelled and, frankly, old for the first time in this three-part series, seemed to have an inner calm he hadn't got at the start of the programme. He was sad to leave, but Pappa would be there until the end of his life. Pappa Lazaru is hardcore. A warrior in almost every sense. And he would be fighting the good fight until he couldn't fight it any longer.

Whatever your opinion on religion and spirituality, there was no denying that this was just extraordinary. In fact the whole series has been extraordinary. It was about the journey, and about one open-minded man willing to open himself up completely (emotionally and physically) to extreme experiences.

For me, it touched me, entertained me, enlightened me, shocked me and, crucially, made me think about my life and where I am going. Very rarely does a television programme make me feel all those things all at once.

First ep review here.
Second ep review here.